


Rewriting the Stars

by jonesgirl88



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Drama & Romance, F/M, Family, Gen, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-10 16:53:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13505754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonesgirl88/pseuds/jonesgirl88
Summary: Loving each other is easy, rewriting the stars is harder than they thought. Phillip and Anne's struggle through the 19th century but walls will come tumbling down as their love only grows stronger. Phillip/Anne centric but the entire cast, plus OCs, make regular appearances. A connected series of one-shots.





	1. Chapter 0

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ultimatefan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ultimatefan/gifts).



> A/N: This was originally posted on ff.net and after my beta (Ultimatefan) reminded me I had an account on AO3, I broke down and now I'm posting it here. 
> 
> I went to see this movie...again. I’m shameless BUT my beta and friends told me to!...they really had to twist my arm :P  
> While I was watching, I came up with this pre-story idea. I’m adjusting the chapter numbers to accommodate this so it reads better as a story. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing and I gain nothing from this movie...but my appreciation of Efron has grown.

* * *

 

Anne held W.D. close as they watched the circus--their home, their livelihood--burn to the ground. Soot covered him in splotches and she started wiping them away but he waved her off, more concerned with Phillip and the emergency care surrounding him.

 

“Take good care of him!” W.D. called and the request caught Barnum’s ear, the man turned and gave a nod, turning back to care for the rest of the circus, finally allowing Anne to drag her brother towards the on-scene medics to tend to him.

 

“Are you hurt?” Anne asked, running her hands over his head to check for blood and bruises. A medic shoved a bowl of water into her hands, asking her to assist in cleaning themselves up while he tended to the minor scrapes on her brother.

 

“Carlyle pulled us out in time,” he finally responded as Anne helped wipe his face clean. The medic turned to her and she shook her head at his offer of medical attention. 

 

“What happened?” she asked quietly, unable to stop herself from glancing around at her friends, her family, receiving treatment for burns and bloodied lips.

 

“The protests turned into a riot,” he answered, “We asked them to--”

 

“Who’s ‘we’?” Anne stopped him, trying to put the story together in her head but nothing made sense and the blazing fire only added to her confusion.

 

“After the performance, protesters approached Carlyle and I was by his side,” W.D. started again, clarifying as much as possible. “He asked them to leave and they wouldn’t--we didn’t ask a second time.”

 

“You started a fight?” Anne hissed “W.D., you can’t be doing that.”

 

“You should have heard what they were saying about us,” he seethed, “even Carlyle.” Anne scoffed.

 

“He can take care of himself,” she retorted, “why do you care about him?” W.D. looked at her as if she had 2 heads--and considering their work in the circus, that was saying something.

 

“He loves you,” he stated so simply it took her by surprise. “He ran back into that building because we couldn’t find you. He thought you were in there.”

 

“I...I left after my final act,” Anne blanched, “I was hungry and went to the bakery around the corner.” She suddenly feeling infantile for leaving without letting anyone knowing where she was going. “I ran back when I heard about a fire at the circus.”

 

“No one is blaming you,” he took her hand and pulled her into a hug she willingly accepted. “You’re allowed to be happy, you know,” he told her and she gave a watery chuckle that turned into a sob.

 

“It wouldn’t work, W.D.,” she whispered, “we’re too different.” He snorted. 

 

“The man ran into a burning building to find you,” he said, “I think you’re giving him too little credit.” Before they could say anything else, Barnum came in, his suit ragged, covered in soot, and his hair in disarray, and looked them over with a nod.

 

“You two seem taken care of,” he said and Anne nodded with a smile. 

 

“How is everyone else?” W.D. asked, touching the bandage on his arm. Barnum sighed and ran a hand through his hair--explaining why it looked so awful.

 

“Phillip got the worst of it,” he started, “He inhaled too much smoke and he’s in a coma. He’s been taken to Bellevue.” Anne shuttered at this and closed her eyes at the news. “Other than him, Jeremy has a broken nose from a fight, which I need to hear about,” he looked at W.D. who merely nodded, “and O’Malley dislocated his shoulder from throwing open the heat-warped gates for the elephants and horses to escape. Everyone else escaped with minor cuts and bruises.”

 

“I’ll tell you about the fight,” W.D. obliged and Barnum nodded, “but you,” he turned to Anne, “know where you need to be.” Anne looked at her brother, who only nodded, before smiling, giving him a hug and kiss, and bolting out of the makeshift tent. 

 

^v^v^

 

At first, she hesitated going inside: what if they told her she couldn’t see him? What if they told her she didn’t belong there? What if they threw her out? None of her fears came to pass and a young nurse took her to Phillip’s ward. The doctors paid her no mind as she walked down the rows of beds, some filled but most empty, finally spotting Phillip and rushing to his side.

 

He looked so young against the crisp, white linens and bandages around his head and various cuts across his arms and hands. The soot from the fire still streaked his face. Anne sat next to him on the bed and for a moment, just a moment, she could trick herself into believing he was asleep...but when she took his hand in hers and intertwined their fingers he didn’t react, not even movement under his eyelids so he appeared to be dreaming caused a lump to grow in her throat and tears to threaten to spill from her eyes.

 

If... _ when _ he awoke, she forced herself to think, there would be no more running--except to him.

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I am posting all the chapters I have written so far to match ff.net and then I will update both sites at the same time.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing, am affiliated with nothing, and am gaining nothing from this except sharing my love of these two lovely idiots.  
> This has not been beta'ed (this has now been beta’ed!) so any current mistakes are my own.

* * *

Once upon a time, he had the social circle, the money, the fame, and misery clung to him like a five o’clock shadow he desperately tried to ignore. But now, as Phillip took his final bow and his grin split his face from ear to ear; his misery molded in an old closet, rarely used in the past few years since he ran away and joined the circus. A more apt description would be “the circus ran after him” but Barnum wasn’t the only theatrical one of their trope and he would be damned if he let Phinn be the hero of the story.

 

“Have a wonderful evening!” he crowed to the exiting mass, shaking hands with patrons as they twittered excitedly over the acts they saw. “Come again soon, and bring your friends!” He meandered through the dwindling crowd, ever the gracious Ringmaster to guests and eagle-eyed spy of protesters. 

 

“Flip? Is that you?” The childhood nickname caused him to falter and he swung around; like a lost child looking for his mother, Phillip scanned the unfamiliar faces for the one he recognized.

 

“Lottie?” he asked and he glanced past her before settling back on her and bee-lining towards her and her family. “What are you doing here?” He asked hoarsely, not anticipating what it would mean to see his family again. He tried to look Lottie in the eye but she was stubbornly tidying invisible dirt off the children’s clothing while Jacob held the children back. Before he could comment, a familiar, and welcomed, presence sided beside him.

 

“Flip?” Anne asked, standing close enough her breath tickled his ear. Phillip grinned at her arrival and loosely placed his hand on her waist. 

 

“Anne Wheeler, I would like to introduce you to my cousin Charlotte Brown, her husband Jacob, and their children Sarah, Alice, and…” he paused for dramatic effect on the youngest boy, barely a year old the last time he saw him. “Harry,” Phillip finished with ease, tossing the youngster a wink and the boy grinned. “Lottie and Jacob, this is Anne Wheeler: one of the stars of the show...and my girl.” 

 

He could feel Anne stiffen next to him but it was nothing compared to Lottie and Jacob. A slight gust from the docks would have sent them careening. Lottie locked eyes with him and if it were chilly outside, the glare she sent him would have warmed him with plenty to spare. Jacob looked between them as if he about to be sick. 

 

“You were wonderful,” Alice breathed in awe at Anne, breaking the cocoon of silence around them, and Phillip smiled at his little cousin--at least sense ran in some of the family.

 

“Your mother said--” Lottie choked, her voice raw with emotion. 

 

“My mother doesn’t know anything,” Phillip interrupted flatly and Jacob put a hand on Lottie’s arm for support. “Did you have to come and see for yourself?”

 

“I didn’t…I couldn’t...” Lottie started but the weight of the unsaid hung between them and silenced her. Sarah wrestled away from her father and walked up to Anne cautiously, as one approaches the unknown.

 

“Is your hair really pink?” she asked hesitantly. Anne extricated herself from his side and bend down to the little girl’s eye level. 

 

“It’s a wig,” Anne confessed, and though it was prohibited, she began unfastening the pins and let her natural, brunette hair cascade down her shoulders while she held the wig in her hand. Sarah lifted her hand and touched Anne’s natural hair, a few locks splayed through her fingers while the girl looked between the wig and the hair in her hand as though making a decision of the utmost importance.

 

The family feud fell silent while all sides watched the events playing before them--filling with hope and fear and resentment and longing. It was too much to ask of any little girl; which is why she was the deciding factor.

 

“I like this hair better,” Sarah pointed to the wig. “My favorite color is pink.” Anne smiled.

 

“Mine too,” Anne replied, “which is why I like wearing this.” Sarah seemed appeased by this answer and she skipped back for her mother’s outstretched hand and for a moment the air was lighter, the feud mellowed by insignificantly profound words.

 

“We’ll be seeing you,” Lottie offered, as an apology, a goodbye, and a promise, and Phillip took it as all three.

 

“It was lovely meeting you,” Anne said but Lottie could only nod.

 

“We’ll tell your parents--” Jacob started but Phillip waved them off.

 

“You don’t need to tell them anything,” he interrupted gently, “I’m glad you came and I do hope you come again.” 

 

“We will,” Jacob said and offered his hand. Phillip marvelled at the wondrous developments while watching his cousin and her family leave the Big Top.

 

“They seem...nice,” Anne said after a few moments of silence. Phillip chuckled and pulled her in for a gentle kiss. 

 

“She was 5 when I was born,”  he began, twirling her around the empty center stage as they made their way backstage, “and she couldn’t pronounce ‘Phillip’; she called me ‘Fliplip’.” It was Anne’s turn to laugh and even though he had sworn to do so before, he doubled down on his vow to make her laugh like that at least once a day. It brightened everything about her and she glowed.

 

“Hence, ‘Flip’,” she finished with a grin and he nodded.

 

“If we hurry, we could catch the last showing of the theater down the street,” he offered and Anne dashed away to change while he began undoing the buttons of his own uniform.

 

His social circle had drastically changed--now he had true friends; the unending money was gone--now he valued the time, not money, spent; and he was no longer a semi-famous producer--now he was the disgraced and disowned son of Manhattan. He was the happiest man on earth.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 2: If you feel the need to flame, remember to flame responsibly :)


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is mostly fluffy because the next chapter won't be...so enjoy it now.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. I reap nothing. I'm merely sharing my love of this couple and these people with you all.
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

 

Phillip stood on the vestibule of his childhood home, a stranger in familiar land. He took a deep breath and with one hand crushing the velvet of his hat, he raised his hand and knocked on the giant door. It reverberated around him and he counted a full 30 seconds until the pristine, crisp _clack_ of shoes echoing inside alerted him to the presence of someone on the other side of the door.

 

“Master Phillip,” Alfred answered and Phillip smiled at the elderly gentleman.

 

“Alfred,” he nodded his head in acknowledgement, “are my parents home?” The butler stepped to the side and Phillip entered the manor, waiting politely while Alfred closed the door, took his hat and coat, and walked him to the drawing room.

 

It was amazing how his life changed in the past handful of years. When he was a producer, he could have arrived in the middle of the night, drunk and barely able to stand, and been welcomed with open arms. Now, he was shunned and being led around his own childhood home by the butler who sent him off to school when he was a child.

 

“Phillip Carlyle for you, sir,” Alfred announced, stepping to the side so Phillip could enter the room. His father held the afternoon paper while his mother held needlepoint in her lap, surprise clear on their face while he took a seat across from them.

 

“Mother, father,” he greeted as politely as he could, putting on his best airs. The calm he exuded belayed the quivering he felt inside. He knew they wouldn’t agree but he had to ask--for _her_. “You’re looking well.”

 

“Phillip,” his father said, finally reacting to his presence and setting down the paper and motioning to Alfred to mix a few drinks for the occasion. “What brings you here?”

 

“You look well, dear,” his mother simpered and Phillip could only smile.

 

“Have you put that circus nonsense out of your mind?” his father asked, reaching for the drinks Alfred offered and Phillip took his, enjoying the taste of fine liquor again. It _had_ been a while.

 

“I didn’t come here to talk about work,” Phillip replied, swirling the amber liquid around in his glass. “I came here...to ask for Gran’s ring.” His mother’s intake of breath was almost drowned out by his father’s snort of derision.

 

“Do you take us for fools, son?” his father demanded but Phillip only met his gaze without answering. He wanted to answer honestly--yes, they are fools to blind themselves to the amazing things in the world because it made them uncomfortable.

 

“Lottie told us you’re still infatuated with that...that _girl_ ,” his mother sniffed, and Phillip nodded, tearing his gaze from his father and meeting his mother’s horrified look. “Phillip…” her sentence trailed to silent tears and while that would have once wrenched his heart, he merely took pity on her.

 

“Her name is Anne,” Phillip said, “and I’m going to ask her to marry me.” The words bubbled out of him and he couldn’t contain the smile that spread across his face. He approached W.D. a week ago and after a nerve-wracking 5 minutes, the man clasped Phillip on the shoulder and gave him his blessing. This was barely an ordeal compared to talking with Anne’s beloved older brother.

 

“Not with our permission, you won’t,” his father barked and the absurdity of the statement made Phillip laugh.

 

“You can’t stop me,” Phillip reminded. “I’m 30 years old, I’ve been on my own for over 5 years, and Gran left me her ring to give to the woman I choose to marry.”

 

“It will not be that bitch,” his father snarled. Phillip slammed his glass on the table next to him and stood, heat rising and he felt himself began to shake. He was used to the glares as he and Anne walked down the street, even disregarded the odd word or two spat their way but this was _his_ father. His _father_.

 

“You will not talk about her that way,” Phillip threatened, crossing the room in a moment to within an inch of his father. “You don’t even know her and I will not ask you to. I will only ask for my inheritance from my grandmother. You owe me that much.”

 

“I owe you nothing,” his father seethed and Phillip searched for the spark of the man he once knew but he couldn’t find it. He only saw a man so concerned with status and wealth and he wondered if his father ever cared about anything else.

 

“Mother,” Phillip turned and saw his mother as white as a sheet, her hand over her mouth, and looking as if she were about to faint. “I’m sorry for the intrusion and I bid you a wonderful evening.” He didn’t wait for Alfred to show him to the door; he let himself out.

 

^v^v^

 

Lettie found him sulking backstage between shows the next day. Phinn had given him the day off, but his life was this place and he had nowhere else to go...or money to spend out because of the small box in his coat pocket.

 

“Didn’t go well with the folks?” she offered and he looked up with a half-smirk and shook his head.

 

“What gave it away?” he asked, reclining on the bales of hay he settled himself against.

 

“She’s going to say ‘yes’ no matter what ring you offer her,” Lettie comforted but he shook his head.

 

“That’s not what it’s about. Gramps first proposed to Gran when they had nothing; not even rings to exchange during the ceremony,” Phillip explained. “The ring she left me, he gave to her years later when he could afford something he deemed worthy of her. It cost him a small fortune but to him, it was worth it. Gramps always said Gran was his star and the ring shone almost as bright as she did.

When Gramps and Gran passed, the ring passed to me along with the instructions to find a person who shone brighter than the ring. That’s what they wanted and I never understood that--”

 

“You never understood that until you met Anne,” Lettie finished and Phillip nodded. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry you couldn’t get the ring.”

 

“Thanks, Lettie,” he said. She smiled softly, touching his shoulder in solidarity as she passed, leaving him to his thoughts. He tilted his head back against the hay, closing his eyes and fingering the box in his pocket. This was nowhere near as fine as Gramps ring as this one was smaller and more unassuming, but the cut and clarity were brilliant and the half carat diamond sparkled even in dim light. He spent nearly 2 years of salary on the ring but the moment he held it between his fingers, he knew it was perfect.

 

“I thought P.T. gave you the day off,” she interrupted his thoughts and brushed a kiss to his forehead. Phillip moved over so Anne could join him in his corner of the Big Top. She curled into his side, resting her head beneath his chin and he wrapped his arm around her.

 

“I went to see my parents today,” he confessed, gently running his hand up and down the expanse of her bare arm. “My Gran left me something...an inheritance. I went to claim it this afternoon.”

 

“It didn’t go well?” Anne guessed and Phillip shook his head. “We don’t need money, why did you--”

 

“It wasn’t money,” Phillip interrupted, sitting up a little forcing Anne to sit up as well. “As the eldest grandson, Gran left a family heirloom--her wedding ring--to me, to give to the woman I choose to marry.” At the words _wedding ring_ and _marry_ , Anne’s eyes flew open and her mouth dropped.

 

“Wha...Phillip?” she asked shakily and he could only smile as he pulled the box from his pocket, carefully undoing the ties holding the lid in place.

 

“My parents refused to give me the ring, so I went and purchased this,” he lifted the top off the box and the torchlight caught the brilliantly cut diamond and it sparkled like a star in its setting.

 

“Anne, I don’t have much, but what I have is yours. We can create our own heirlooms and new traditions, as long as you’re beside me. Will you marry me?”

 

“Yes, yes, yes,” she breathed through sobs of laughter and Phillip couldn’t help but join in as he took the ring from the box and slid it on her finger. She was used to the sensation of flying through the air, but this...this was a new sensation of flying she never experienced before and she wasn’t coming down any time soon.

 

“I love you,” he whispered, pulling her close and peppering kisses across her cheeks, her nose, and finally on her lips. “So much.”

 

“I love you too,” she whispered back, snuggling into his embrace with a sigh. She closed her eyes, screwing them together tightly--if this was a dream she never wanted to wake up. The cool band on her finger and the sparkle of the diamond told her it wasn’t a dream, and this was only the beginning.

 

They were home.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 2: If you have an idea you want to see, let me know and I'll see if I can do it justice :)  
> As always, if you feel the need to flame, flame responsibly :)


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Good news--I found a beta! The wonderful Ultimatefan from AO3 has deigned to help me beta this! She’ll be working her way through when she has time, but between the two of us, hopefully there are very few errors. If you find any, they’re mine.
> 
> Disclaimer: angst ahead. Nothing too bad, but a disagreement that isn’t resolved. 
> 
> Enjoy!

 

* * *

 

Barnum burst into the office and Phillip looked up from his desk to see his partner throw his hat on his desk and himself on the couch, dramatically putting his arm over his face with a groan.

 

“Something wrong?” Phillip asked casually, setting aside the accounts for a moment.

 

“Have you looked at the books?” he asked and Phillip sighed. It wasn’t good--attendance was down, rent and insurance were up, and contract renegotiation was around the corner.

 

“It’s not as bad as you think,” Phillip pulled a book from the bottom of the pile and turned it around to show Barnum even though his current position prevented him from seeing it. “Attendance has always dropped during winter but,” he turned back several pages, “it’s up almost thirty percent from last year. With a combined  rent and insurance increase of only five percent, we’ll get by.”

 

“So these weren’t too much of an engagement present?” Barnum looked up and grinned at his younger associate. It took Phillip a moment to absorb the statement and recognize what PT held, he gaped as Barnum walked over and took the seat across from him. “It was Charity’s idea,” he said, placing the tickets on Phillip’s desk.

 

“Phinn, these are to a private box,” Phillip protested, “for a _season_. This is too much.”

 

“You just said the numbers aren’t as bad as they appear,” Barnum tapped the books Phillip had stacked around his desk. “You and Anne deserve a night on the town,” he gave a small wink and Phillip smiled and nodded.

 

“Right, boss,” Phillip acknowledged, slipping the tickets into his jacket pocket. Barnum picked up his hat and sat it on his head with a flourish.

 

“Try to stay for the entire thing this time, will you?” Barnum called as he left the office for the stadium and Phillip rolled his eyes before opening the books again to complete inventory and financing.

 

^v^v^

 

Anne couldn’t help the gasp of awe she gave as she saw The Victoria Theatre outside the carriage doors. She rarely travelled north of 23rd Street and never ventured past 34th Street, but tonight she set foot in Upper Manhattan.

 

“It’s magnificent,” she breathed. Before the doorman helped her down, she bustled her dress quickly and moved in line. Phillip stood next to her and she took his offered arm.

 

“Wait until you see the inside,” he promised and she felt as though she couldn’t contain her excitement--she was vibrating and if not tethered, she could fly in a thousand directions. It was a wonderful feeling and she didn’t want it to end.

 

“Have you been here before?” Anne asked and Phillip nodded.

 

“I produced two plays down the street,” he nodded his head bayside and gave a little shake of his head. “Pretentious things which barely lasted a season. I came in here a handful of times for meetings.” He pulled the tickets from his breast pocket once again, checking to ensure he didn’t misplace them, and Anne sobered for a moment, looking her fiance with concern.

 

“Do you miss it?” she asked quietly and Phillip looked at her quizzically. “Miss this?” she asked, gesturing around her.

 

“Miss the theater?” he clarified and when she nodded for the first time since she knew him, he snorted in a most undignified manner. It made her grin. “I have work I love with people I love,” he pulled her closer. “How could I have time to miss it?”

 

They approached the ticket office and he presented their tickets. The ticket taker punched them and handed them back, directing them to the doors. As she stepped inside, Anne believed she was transported to another world. This wasn’t the small theater Barnum had gifted her earlier, or the stadium she performed in. This was a theatre, where magic existed and great things happened.

 

“Are you ready?” Phillip asked, offering his arm and she took it; allowing him to lead her to their private box while she took in the sweeping expanse of the foyer, the statues, the ushers, and the grandness of it all.

 

They found their seats relatively easily and he took her coat, placing it outside the box with his, before rejoining her. Charity couldn’t have picked better seats--they were the third box from the stage, close enough to see and enjoy the performance while maintaining privacy from the harsh lights. The performance tonight was said to be one of the best from vaudeville and she couldn’t wait.

 

“Excuse me,” an usher entered their box and Phillip and Anne turned around. “I need to see your tickets, please.”

 

“Of course,” Phillip said, taking them from his pocket and handing them to the usher. The older man looked them over and then looked Anne up and down with a critical eye.

 

“I will be back in a moment,” he returned the tickets to Phillip before leaving the box.

 

“That’s strange,” Phillip remarked, holding the tickets in his hand thinking it would save time if he had to hand them over again. Anne’s stomach started sinking, _it’s happening again_ , and she bit her lip nervously. “Hey, hey, hey,” he soothed, noticing her worry, “it’s a simple misunderstanding.”

 

Within twenty minutes, Phillip and Anne were standing outside their box with the original usher, the usher’s manager and the theatre’s manager. The tickets were passed around, each man trying to prove them a forgery while Phillip politely explained they were a gift.

 

“A gift?” the theatre manager grumbled, “for what?”

 

“They are an engagement present,” Phillip said, “from my business partner and his wife.” The three men looked up and Anne shied away, turning from their stares as much as she could.

 

“You two are engaged?” the usher manager choked and Phillip beamed proudly with a nod. “How cou--”

 

“What’s your business?” the theatre manager interrupted.

 

“My business partner is P.T. Barnum, we run the circus dockside,” Phillip offered and all three men looked at each other, having a silent conversation. Anne knew what was coming, could feel it in her bones--it was the same thing that happened uncountable times before but this time, her heart broke for Phillip. It was his first time.

 

“I need you to leave,” the theatre manager demanded, throwing the tickets at Phillip as though they were worthless.

 

“Wha--why?” Phillip asked, clearly confused.

 

“We don’t want spooks here,” he said, pointing to Anne, “and we certainly don’t want anyone who is around those freaks here either!”

 

“But I--” Phillip began protesting but Anne pulled his hand, stopping his argument before it began. She grabbed their coats and hurried off, allowing Phillip to catch up with her outside. She wasn’t going to cry--they weren’t worth her tears...but he was. Once Phillip was behind her, the tears spilled from her eyes and she pulled him close.

 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

 

“What are you sorry for?” he asked, gently rubbing her back as he held her. “It’s their fault. I’ll talk with P.T. tomorrow and it will be straightened out--we’ll go again and we’ll have a great time, I promise. I’m sorry your night was ruined.”

 

“This is what happens,” she said, and he pulled away, puzzled at the words. “You...we can be ‘us’ at the circus, at home, but out here?” she gestured to the streets of New York, “We’re a spectacle, and we always will be. There will always be things we won’t be able to do because we’re together.”

 

“It’s going to take some time but--” Phillip started to soothe but Anne shook her head.

 

“Phillip, they don’t want to take the time,” she interrupted. “They don’t want to know me, or you, or us.”

 

“Then it’s their loss!” he replied, raising his voice slightly. She let go of their embrace and took a step back--anger slowly welling inside.

 

“This is the first time this happened to you,” she pointed out, “but this has happened to me my entire life. I know it’s their loss, but I can’t convince them of that.”

 

“So we continue living our life, being happy and loving each other despite them,” Phillip said, stepping in and taking her head but Anne shook her head.

 

“You don’t understand, do you?” she closed her eyes and wished she didn’t have to explain this to the man she loved, but she did. “People will always judge us because of who I am--what I am. We can’t escape that.”

 

“You’ve written it off as though you haven’t tried,” Phillip cajoled and Anne laughed.

 

“I’ve tried my entire life! Why do you think W.D. and I resigned ourselves to the shadows? It wasn’t because we fit in,” the anger inside rearing its ugly head bit at him, trying to make him see the world as it was, not as he thought it should be.

 

Phillip opened his mouth to speak but took a breath instead and let it out slowly. She wanted him to fight back, to run away, to hold her, to scream, to do _something_ instead of stand on the sidewalk outside the loveliest theatre she had seen and look beaten by the game he used to play.

 

“I’ll call you a carriage,” he said mechanically, walking over to the depot and talking with the clerk to ring for a carriage. This was worse, she decided as she watched him pay for a ride that would take them to Lower Manhattan; this beaten boy who played along because there was no way to win.

 

She learned long ago not to care what others thought of her or her abilities, but Phillip...poor Phillip was bred with the constant reminder that what others thought mattered. Recently, he threw that mantle off and it was freeing to see his elation at the ease he now conducted life, but people still mattered whether she, or he, didn’t care about them.

 

“The carriage will drop you off at home,” he interrupted her thoughts as he came up beside her, opened the door, and helped her up and into the awaiting carriage.

 

“You’re not coming?” she asked once she was seated and he shook his head.

 

“I--I need some air. I’m going to walk home.” It would take all night but Anne just nodded. Phillip shut the door and pulled himself to stand on the foot rail, leaning into the open window. “I love you,” he said and she leaned forward and kissed him soundly.

 

“I love you, too,” she replied. It wasn’t his normal grin, but a small smile appeared and he stepped off and waved to the driver, who hitched the horses and she took off, watching Phillip disappear as she turned the corner and headed home.

 

Maybe some walls were too big for them to break through alone.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 2: I have a few more ideas for one-shots so if you guys have any plot bunnies, drop me a line!
> 
> If you feel the need to flame, please flame responsibly :)


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hopefully this bit of fluff will help ease the tension created by the last chapter before another round of angst in the next few chapters.
> 
> Edit: I realized, after going to see this movie again (and Wrox on AO3), I switched Helen and Caroline. Nothing has changed except their names.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing and I gain nothing from writing this except your lovely reviews.

* * *

 

Anne turned up the collar of her coat against the bitter wind as Phillip helped her race up the steps and open the door into the warm foyer. 

 

“Phillip! Anne!” Helen called, racing over to the couple and hugging their legs. “You’re finally here!”

 

“You told us to be here at seven o’clock sharp,” Phillip protested, picking up the youngest Barnum and walking over to where Charity and P.T. waited, “and it’s five minutes ‘til.” Helen shrugged and Phillip laughed, setting her down and she ran off to Charity, who took her hand with a smile.

 

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Charity offered and both smiled warmly, greeting the Barnum’s with hugs and a handshake. They joined the line of parents, relatives, and friends making their way into the auditorium.

 

“And miss Caroline’s performance?” Anne questioned as though the thought would never have occurred as they waited to take their seat.    
  


“It’s all he’s been able to talk about for weeks,” Phillip elbowed Barnum with a grin, “I thought for sure he would create a ballet routine for a finale before the month was over.” The men helped the women into their seat--Helen between Phillip and Barnum.

 

“Can I help it if I’m excited about my daughter’s performance?” he stiffened jokingly and Charity leaned into him with a smile. 

 

“How are the wedding plans progressing?” Charity asked, changing the subject and leaning forward to ask Anne at the end. The latter grinned and looked to Phillip, who decidedly started looking everywhere but his fiancee.

 

“Yes, how are the wedding plans coming?” Anne echoed, her smile audible as she grinned at Phillip. 

 

“I’m missing something,” P.T. said, looking between his co-worker and trapeze star.

 

“My family isn’t going to attend,” Phillip started, “and Anne’s family is small, so I suggested we could save money and have a small affair.”

 

“What’s wrong with that?” P.T. asked at the same time Charity laughed and Helen gasped.

 

“You don’t want a big wedding?” Helen asked Anne, as though the idea were foreign to her. “But you’ll look like a princess!”

 

“She already looks a princess,” Phillip interjected smoothly, picking up her hand and giving it kiss, causing Anne to blush but hold his gaze. 

 

“Nice distraction,” she quipped, “but that won’t work.” P.T. and Charity chuckled and Phillip opened his mouth to say something but the lights dimmed and the audience applauded politely as the curtain rose and the recital began.

 

Despite starting late, Caroline acquired her father’s natural showmanship and her mother’s grace--she was one of three soloists out of her class of 20. The practice Barnum told them Helen perfected paid off and she received some of the most thunderous applause. Phillip and Anne were among her loudest supporters.

 

After the performance, Anne took Phillip’s arm and they followed Charity and P.T. backstage where they waited for Helen to emerge. Phillip held a giant bouquet for the young soloist while Anne held a package in her hands she wouldn’t let anyone look in. 

 

“Daddy!” Caroline squealed, jumping into P.T.’s open arms and giggling with delight as he spun her around. “Did you see me?” 

 

“See you?” he asked, “How could I miss you? You were wonderful!” he beamed, kissing each cheek. Charity took Caroline in her arms and repeated the process.

 

“You’re a born natural,” she praised and Caroline glowed with pride as Helen gave her sister a hug. 

 

“These are for the young ballerina,” Phillip handed over the bouquet and it nearly toppled her over. 

 

“Thank you, Uncle Phillip!” Caroline’s voice caused the stems of the roses to shake and Barnum picked up the bouquet for her, holding it while she gave Phillip and Anne a hug. “What’s in the bag?” she asked, pointing to the package in Anne’s arms.

 

“It’s for your fellow ballet...students,” Anne replied knowingly. Caroline wasn’t unfamiliar with being an outcast--seeking refuge from the cruelty of the ballet company at the circus and the performers. “Where are they?” As if on cue, a horde of ballet students descended to join the after party and dead-ended into the group blocking the way.

 

“Good job, girls!” Phillip praised enthusiastically, and unless they were familiar with his expressions, they wouldn’t have noticed he put on his Ringmaster persona. “You did great.”

 

“We brought you presents,” Anne offered with her performance smile, handing out small wrapped bundles to their eager, greedy hands. They held them delicately, trying to hide their excitement at the prospect of a gift and not wanting to seem overeager to tear into it. They side-eyed the bouquet P.T. held for his daughter and they twittered at the potential gifts inside their own parcels.

 

“Are we ready to move on to the after party?” P.T. asked the girls once the package was deemed empty, hanging at Anne’s side, and they nodded. “We’ll see you there, ladies,” he bid the classmates farewell and put his arm around Charity while Helen and Caroline ran off towards the afterparty. Only Anne and Phillip lagged long enough to hear the girl’s reaction.

 

“PEANUTS?” the girls squealed in disgust.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /N 2: I have amazing news: over the weekend I received a job offer. For those of you who are new, I studied engineering and graduated in 2014. This is my first engineering job--it’s over 3 years in the making and I am truly blessed. It is a prayer answered and I couldn’t be happier.
> 
> I don’t know what the update schedule for this will be (there really isn’t one) but work comes first. I’ll try to keep this up but if I disappear for a while, you know why.
> 
> Also, it’s not that Anne wants a “big” wedding but small weddings in the 1900s meant very little in the way of...anything resembling a wedding today. She wants her moment to walk down the aisle in a pretty white dress, which was still a relatively new fashion for someone NOT in high society.
> 
> As always, if you feel the need to flame, flame responsibly :)


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: When it rains, it pours? Angst. Followed by more angst. Sorry not sorry.
> 
> Thank you for all the wonderful kudos! I wish I could reward you with more fluff...but this came out instead. (Blame my beta?? She gave me the idea…)
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing, merely sharing my love of this family with all of you.

* * *

 

It was an accident. A later investigation, begun by Barnum, found the chalk the Wheeler siblings used changed suppliers and it wasn’t as tactile as it should have been. No matter the cause, when Anne and W.D. performed their final trick of switching aerial hoops in mid-air their grip failed and both siblings fell to the ground--W.D. on his side, but Anne on her back.

 

Phillip watched in slow motion with confusion, then horror, as both missed their cues, grasping at anchors falling away from them, and then contorting into safety positions to cushion the fall. Except there was no cushion, only the blacktop of the docks covered in hay and sawdust for effect. W.D. contorted himself and his shoulder took the brunt of his fall, but Anne attempted to roll out of the fall to no avail: she landed on her back. The crowd was silent--the Wheelers were the highlight of the show and this was a show-stopping act, but when neither sibling moved and Phillip ran to Anne’s side.

 

“Someone call an ambulance!” Barnum yelled as he ran to W.D.’s side, sliding slightly at his speed and the sawdust beneath his feet. The crowd became restless and vocal murmuring rippled through the stands; Charity, O’Malley, and Lettie began crowd control and ushered them out back and side doors with promises of refunds or tickets to other shows.

 

“Bellevue is sending two ambulances,” Timothy said, coming into the ring. He glanced at Phillip hovering over Anne, and went over to Barnum. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

 

“I think I can stand,” W.D. grunted, but with minimal support he was already sitting up. He held his arm close and he paled with pain, but he was up and Barnum was sure he wasn’t about to collapse. “How’s Anne?” he asked and Barnum glanced over his shoulder to see Phillip still hovering over Anne.

 

“The kid is with her,” Barnum comforted, leaning the man against his side as W.D. caught his breath, “you just take care of yourself.”

 

^v^v^

 

“I--I can’t feel my legs,” Anne sputtered from the ground, her eyes searching Phillip’s, “I feel cold.”

 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Phillip shushed, one hand brushing the hair from her forehead while the other grasped her non-responsive quivering hand, “you’re okay, baby.”

 

“Why can’t I get up?” Anne choked, her voice raising.

 

“You...you fell,” Phillip answered hesitantly, pressing a kiss to her forehead and the skin beneath his lips was colder than normal.

 

“I’ve fallen before,” she demanded, “and nothing happened. Why this time?”

 

“I don’t know,” Phillip answered the rhetorical question.

 

“I saw the ring,” she continued as though he hadn’t spoken, he eyes searching and finding the rings dangling above her, “it was right in front of me, but the release was wrong. My hands slipped.”

 

“Where’s the damn ambulance?” Phillip yelled over his shoulder, cracks in his emotional wall chipping away. As if on cue, the clopping of horse hooves and shouts of hospital paramedics and the circus workers directing them into the Big Top appeared.

 

“We’re here from Bellevue,” the lead paramedic said, “what happened?”

 

“They were performing an aerial trick,” Charity answered, the tent finally empty of patrons. “They fell: W.D. landed on his shoulder and Anne landed on her back.” The paramedic nodded and turned to his men and issued directions; two went over to W.D., already on his feet and wincing heavily, two went back to the ambulances outside, and two joined Phillip next to Anne.

 

“We can take it from here, sir,” one of the paramedics interrupted, but Phillip didn’t budge.

 

“I’m not leaving her,” he warned, moving aside so they could do their job but not leaving her side. The paramedics only nodded and bent to begin care. Phillip watched as they began doing tests on her, talking in low voices back and forth and their worried tones made his heart sink. Before he could ask, their fellow paramedics arrived with a stretcher and loaded her onto it before walking her out to the waiting ambulance.

 

After confirming with the paramedics about where they were taking her, Phillip watched as the carriage rolled down the docks before heading back to the tent with one goal: changing to make it to the hospital. Nothing else mattered--he didn’t let anything else matter.

 

^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^

 

Phillip, P.T., and Charity rushed into the hospital and towards the receptionist. The hospital wasn’t busy for a Saturday afternoon but the line of three people they waited behind before speaking with the receptionist was painfully slow. Phillip bounced on the balls of his feet while P.T. crushed his hat in his hands and Charity white-knuckled her husband’s arm.

 

“How may I help you?” the receptionist finally greeted with a smile.

 

“We’re here for the ambulance brought in from the circus,” Barnum explained and the receptionist nodded, flipping papers of the organized chaos on her desk.

 

“The ambulance arrived 20 minutes ago,” she read from a sheet of paper extracted from a stack of files. “They are still in triage. If you will take a seat in the waiting room, I will inform a doctor you wish to speak with him.”

 

It wasn’t the worst news--he barely remembered being in triage, poked and prodded before unconsciousness took him, and it meant neither sibling were gravely injured. He mechanically followed Charity and P.T. to the waiting area, taking a seat in a corner and placing his coat over one knee, his hat on the other, and stoically not thinking about the reason he waited for a doctor to speak with them.

 

He replayed the event over and over again--Anne falling through the air, the ring swaying uselessly above her, the ground approaching dangerously fast, her initial contortion of impacting her side, then a last second change of an attempt to roll out of it, ending with her flat on her back and a cloud of sawdust and hay exploding around her. He could only watch in horror, finally moving after the fall and gasp from the audience.

 

He sat in the rehearsal dozens of times, his heart leaping every time they switched places, but out of the thousand times they practiced; it was perfect. Anne always laughed at his clenched fists when she stepped out of the ring; confident their new closer would thrill audiences for months to come if he was still affected after seeing it so many times. He would pull her close, turning the laugh into a smile with a kiss.

 

“Are you here for the Wheelers?” a nurse interrupted his thoughts and he looked up to see P.T. and Charity following the nurse, so he picked up his hat and coat and followed along. The nurse led to a staging area with several beds, two of which held the Wheeler siblings.

 

“Hello,” a doctor met them before they could see Anne and W.D., “I’m Dr. Avery. You’re here with Mr. and Ms. Wheeler?”

 

“Yes,” Barnum answered, “they work for me.”

 

“She’s my fiance,” Phillip choked, trying his best not to break down in front of the doctor. The doctor put his hand on Phillip’s arm and motioned to the hallway where they backtracked for privacy.

 

“As I’m sure you’re aware, Mr. Wheeler is doing much better,” Avery said, flipping the chart in his hand. “We sent for x-rays but we’re fairly confident he has several broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and broken collarbone. The bones will take a while to set but he will heal and should have minimal adverse effects of the fall. Right now he is resting comfortably and you can see him in a moment.”

 

“And Anne?” Charity asked, her hand settling comfortingly on his shoulder. The doctor sighed and Phillip’s heart sank.

 

“Ms. Wheeler landed on her back. As advanced as our medicine is, there is still much we don’t know about the spine. X-rays show swelling around the lower thoracic and lumbar. Initial tests show full range of motion in the cervical area but there’s nothing we can do until the swelling reduces and we can see the full extent of her injuries. We’ve given her a relaxant to keep her from moving and she’s resting comfortably but...I can’t say for sure until the swelling goes down.”

 

“Can I see her?” Phillip heard himself ask and the doctor nodded. Charity rested her hand on his shoulder and P.T. patted his back before the doctor led him to a bed near the back of the room. He saw Anne laying there, asleep but not asleep, and for the first time since the accident he broke down. Phillip dropped to his knees, his hat and coat abandoned on the bed and tumbling to the floor without care. He took her non-responsive hand in his and sobbed.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 2: I have this covering 3 chapters, so there will be two more chapters covering this story line, and other 5 or 6 planned out. Some are angsty, I don’t think nearly as angsty as this, but most are fun.
> 
> If there is an idea you guys want to see, let me know!
> 
> As always, if you feel the need to flame, please flame responsibly :)


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for all the wonderful reviews, bookmarks, and kudos! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I still own nothing but I found out my beta’s grandfather worked on a show I love...that’s cool!

* * *

 

Phillip wiped his eyes as he filled his coffee cup. He hadn’t slept well in over a week; the hospital was kind enough to let him kip in a spare bed next to Anne, but the constant bustle of the hospital did nothing for a restful sleep.

 

“She’s sleeping,” a gruff voice said from his left and Phillip looked up to see W.D. next to him. His left shoulder was completely bandaged and his arm in a sling, he moved slower than normal, but he was standing and able to walk unassisted.

 

“How are you doing?” he asked, and W.D. shrugged. He carried his cup over to an empty table and W.D. followed after making his own cup of coffee.

 

“It hurts worse some days than other days, but I’ll be alright,” he finally replied, over stirring his coffee for lack of something to do. “I’m regaining grip strength.” He flexed his hand to prove the point and Phillip grinned.

 

“That’s fantastic. You’ll be back up in the air in no time,” Phillip encouraged. “When was the last time you slept in a real bed?” he changed the topic and W.D. gave him a wry look. He slept in the bed next to Anne’s while Phillip slept in the other.

 

“I could ask the same of you,” he retorted and Phillip chuckled with a nod to the affirmative.

 

“I’m not the one recovering from a twenty foot fall,” Phillip reminded. “Why don’t you go get something real to eat, a decent wash, and sleep in a real bed for a night?” he offered but W.D shook his head. “At least go get something real to eat; you need something more than what passes for food here.”

 

“I’ll bring you back something warm,” W.D. offered and Phillip smiled.

 

“Why don’t you stop by the circus and let Jess fawn over you a bit?” Phillip nudged with a quirked eyebrow and a smirk and the man who performed death-defying acts on a near-daily basis blushed at the suggestion. He mumbled something that could have sounded like _mind your own business_ or _that’s my business_ and Phillip didn’t bother to clarify.

 

Once W.D. left there was no reason to stay in the cafeteria so he abandoned his coffee and planned to go back to Anne’s side--except when he returned to the ward she was no longer in bed.

 

“Mr. Carlyle,” Dr. Avery called. Phillip jogged up to the man attending another patient, waiting to speak with him.

 

“Where’s Anne?” Phillip asked, once Avery could give him his full attention.

 

“She’s not healing as fast as we’d like,” he informed, “so we sent for a new round of x-rays to see if the swelling has subsided.”

 

“If?” Phillip caught, “what do you mean, _if_?” Avery sighed and Phillip was beginning to hate that tell--it meant horrible, potentially life-altering news.

 

“It’s been a week since the accident,” Avery reminded, “normally swelling decreases in that time, typically substantially, but in some measurable way. In Ms. Wheeler, it doesn’t seem to have decreased at all.”

 

“What are you saying?” Phillip demanded, his tone harsh but low.

 

“I need to wait for the x-rays,” Avery tried to sooth but Phillip boxed the man in between bed, forcing him to confront the situation.

 

“What. Are. You. Saying?” Phillip repeated slowly.

 

“I can’t tell you for sure,” Avery warned, “but there’s a very good possibility Ms. Wheeler will never walk again.”

 

It was so blunt, so truthful, it smacked Phillip in the chest and he stumbled backwards, tripping and falling over himself. Nurses rushed over to help him stand but he couldn’t feel their hands on his arms or his feet on the floor, he could only hear the words over and over again--never walk again.

 

“Son, I know this is a lot to take in,” Avery helped him sit on the edge of an empty bed but his voice sounded far away, as if he were shouting through a many-walled house, “but this is very preliminary. I’m taking precautions and measuring her progress; we’ll know more once the x-rays are in.” He wasn’t sure if he responded but Avery left him alone and eventually the nurses followed suite.

 

He never thought of Anne not being able to walk, of being stuck in a chair, or worse a bed, the rest of her life. His bright, vibrant Anne confined to such means wrung his heart to tears and without realizing, tears streamed down his face, splashing onto his black pants. He would do everything he could for her, anything he could for her, but would it, could it, be enough?

 

“Phillip?” the soft voice crashed over him as a wave crashes over the sand and he jarred out of his stupor, looking up into the eyes of his mother. “Dear, what’s wrong?” she asked, pulling him close. He remembered climbing into her lap as a boy and even though he was well past the age, she hugged him close and sobs wracked his body as he imagined a new life for Anne he would do anything to trade places for.

 

“What--what are you doing here?” he asked once he felt composed enough to speak without hiccuping.

 

“I called on Mr. Barnum,” she answered, brushing his hair from his eyes. “He informed me you haven’t left the hospital. We read about what happened and we feared it might have been you in the accident.”

 

“Anne and W.D. fell,” he explained. “W.D. dislocated his shoulder and broke a few bones but Anne…she fell on her back.”

 

“How are _you_ doing, dear?” she soothed as only a mother could, laying a comforting hand on his.

 

“I’m not hurt,” he reiterated, “but Anne isn’t healing as fast as they thought she would,” he told her and she nodded sympathetically.

 

“Your father and I have been talking,” his mother whispered hesitantly. “We miss you and want you to come home.” Phillip sat silently, dumbfounded.

 

“You want to do this here?” his voice cracked, looking around the hospital ward. “Now?”

 

“Phillip, your father and I have come to an arrangement,” she continued softly, firmly holding him down to prevent a scene. “We will pay for any medical expenses or care she’ll need--”

 

“Her name,” Phillip seethed, “is _Anne_.”

 

“--and you come home,” she continued as though he hadn’t spoken.

 

“ _I_ will be the one to care for her,” Phillip insisted turning to face his mother head on, “and I’m _not_ leaving her.”

 

“Phillip,” she sighed, “you said she’s not getting better. What will happen when she can’t walk? Can’t care for herself? Will you quit the pitance you make and become a full-time caregiver?”

 

“If that is what it takes, yes!” he argued.

 

“We’re offering you a way out,” she insisted. “Out of caring for someone you’ll grow to resent because they become a burden.”

 

“Like you and father?” Phillip spat and the moment the words left his lips, both parties sat up a little straighter, eyes wide, and looked away. For the first time since she arrived, he looked around at the ward and even though the doctors and nurses appeared busy, he could tell they had been eavesdropping a moment before.

 

“I can see I won’t be able to change your mind,” his mother broke the silence, standing and gathering her things. Phillip wanted to say something, anything, to take back the words that flew out of his mouth. But like a bell, once rung he couldn’t stop the echo of damage in his ears as he watched his mother walk away without an apology, a statement, or a good-bye.

 

^v^v^

 

He was still sitting at the edge of the bed, the argument with his mother replaying through his head over and over, when Anne was brought back. She took one look at him and moved the few fingers she could closer to his, running the pad of her fingertips over the back of the hand closest to her.

 

“What happened?” she asked in a tone that defied him to lie to her and he gave a wallowing smile.

 

“My mother stopped by,” he told her, hitching a leg onto the bed to face her more fully and picked up her hand, caressing it in his. “How are you feeling?”

 

“You don’t get out of it that easily,” she quirked an eyebrow expectantly and he shook his head.

 

“She made a ridiculous proposition,” he went a little deeper without revealing much but Anne was having none of it. “My parents offered to pay for all medical and care expenses…if I go back home.”

 

“There’s the rub,” Anne sighed and Phillip nodded. “What did you say?” she asked a moment later, her voice soft and uncertain.

 

“We exchanged words and she left without a deal; why would you even ask?” Phillip questioned. “Everyone thinks I’m going to leave you because of this, I can’t bear to think you believe the same.”

 

“They may not be telling me,” Anne said, “but I know the longer I go without healing, the worse it probably is. You don’t need me as a burden.”

 

“You are not a burden,” Phillip insisted, reaching over to take her left hand in his. “See this?” he rotated the engagement ring on her finger, the diamond catching the trickling sunlight in the hospital windows and seemingly reflecting it ten fold. “I love you--whether or not you can walk or whether or not I have to care for you. You have never been and you will never be a burden.”

 

“You say that now but--” he cut off the rest of her sentence with a searing kiss, pouring all his love, his fears, their hopes and dreams, their future, giving her his life as if he would never be able to kiss her again.

 

“You are not, and will never be, a burden,” he whispered fiercely, breathless once he broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against hers. He twined their fingers together and brought her hand to his heart. “You brought joy to my life, living without you isn’t an option.”

 

“I love you,” she whispered, tears leaking from the corner of eyes as she squeezed his hand as hard as she could.

 

“I love you, too” he replied, gently kissing her, “and when you walk out of here, we’ll celebrate by buying you a white wedding dress.”

 

“I would be happy enough to walk out of here,” Anne smiled, “but I’m glad you came around to my point of view.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 2: So, mostly angst but some fluff! The last part will wrap up this segment and then we go back to true one-shots. 
> 
> To clear up a few misconceptions: the real story of Barnum takes place at the turn of the century, so I’m setting this around 1905 to 1910. I don’t have an exact date but these are for fun, not a serious story so please don’t ask me to be more accurate than the movie.  
> X-rays were first used in hospitals in 1895, ambulances have been used since the 14th century and Bellevue was the first to offer a horse-drawn system by the 1900s so you could call for aid, triage systems were created by Nightingale (yes, that Nightingale) in the Civil War, and cafeterias in hospitals have pretty much always existed in some fashion or another but the food was notoriously poor quality.
> 
> Yes, I’m taking some creative license because I’m not a doctor and I don’t understand spinal injuries, broken bones, or dislocated shoulders. I’ve done some Googling, read medical journals, and attempted to understand biology and medicine far beyond my current level. If there are any mistakes, just roll with it. If you happen to be a medical historian and can clear some of this up in layman’s terms I’d be happy to speak with you.


	8. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is the last segment of being in the hospital before things are back to normal 'one-shots'. Thank you all for reading, favoriting, and reviewing! I'm glad you're loving this series as much as I love writing it!
> 
> I apologize for the delay in getting this out-work has been wonderful and taking up a ton of time. Not that I mind, because I'm learning so much, but it takes away from time to write and even post. In the next few weeks things will calm down and, hopefully, get back to "normal".
> 
> This picks up right after the previous chapter, there's no time jump.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing, I'm merely writing about these lovely idiots because I love them as much as you guys do.

* * *

 

"Ms. Wheeler, Mr. Carlyle," Dr. Avery interrupted and they looked up to see him holding a manila folder, "I received the latest x-rays and I thought you would want to know the results as soon as possible."

"Yes, please," Anne nodded and Phillip tightened his grip on her hand. He took a seat on the bed next to them and placed the folder next to him, his hands clasped in his lap.

"We were originally worried the swelling had compromised the spinal column," he relayed and they nodded, knowing the original fears. "The new x-rays show swelling has decreased, but not uniformly."

"What does that mean?" Phillip asked looking between Anne and the doctor.

"Our new fear is excessive movement could push vertebrae out of place or cause torn ligaments as the swelling continues to decrease." Avery said. "To prevent all movement, we'd like your permission to use a general anesthetic to put you in a medically-induced sleep."

"That sounds...dangerous," Anne hesitated, glancing between Phillip and the doctor.

"It's a new idea and with constant monitoring, patients have a 60% recovery rate," Avery informed. "It is dangerous but without it, we fear you could do more damage and become paralyzed." Phillip looked at Anne as she looked at him and he could see the fear in her eyes.

"Can we have a minute?" Phillip asked and Avery nodded.

"The sooner we do the procedure the better," he said, "but I understand needing to take time to talk it over." He stood and Anne waited until he was several bed away to turn to Phillip.

"I'm scared," she confessed and he brushed a kiss to the knuckles of her hand he held, sweeping stray locks of hair away from her face.

"I know," was the only thing he could think to say. "I am too."

"I think I need to do it," she replied and he could only nod.

"I will agree with whatever you decide," he told her. "I won't leave your side and I know W.D. will do the same. We'll watch over you." Anne nodded and closed her eyes, setting her mind before nodding and opening them again with decision.

"Tell him I'll do it," she said and Phillip stood, gave her a kiss on the forehead, and left to find Avery.

^v^v^

Once Anne was unconscious, Avery had her transferred to another ward-this time for something called 'traction'. He had to explain it to Phillip several times before he understood, it was a better way to ensure proper alignment of the spine and would move Anne in the right way if she needed and keep her still in others.

The first thing he did was inform W.D. when he came back several hours later with a fresh change of clothes and food for Phillip. Avery explained, again, the use of the ether to keep her unconscious and in traction. He was understandably upset he wasn't able to be there for his sister when she went under, but glad Phillip was and took over watching Anne while Phillip grabbed a shower, changed his clothes, and ate while the food was still warm.

"Flip?" a soft voice called and Phillip turned to see Lottie approaching him slowly, carefully, almost afraid he would lash out if she moved too fast.

"What are you doing here?" he asked coldly, the encounter with his mother earlier that day fresh in his mind.

"Your father told me your mother was coming by," she grimaced, "and what they were going to offer."

"And you're here to talk me into it?" Phillip retorted harshly. "How many times do I have to say it: I'm not leaving Anne. I'm not asking you to understand why I love her, but have the decency to understand I'm not leaving her."

"I came here to support you," she whispered. "You're right: I don't know why you love her...but I'd like to find out." The words took the fight out of him and deflated him; he could only gap at his older cousin, mimicking a fish at his loss of words.

"Do you mean that?" his voice broke at the question and she nodded with a smile.

"I've never known you to choose hardship, Flip," she took a step closer, placing her hand on his shoulder, "so if you're defying your parents, choosing the circus and outcasts, and refusing to give up Anne for a comfortable life again, there's something we're not seeing. I'd like to know what that is."

"She's asleep right now," Phillip said, "but I'd love for you to meet her brother." Lottie nodded and Phillip took her to Anne's room, walking in first and talking with W.D. before motioning for Lottie to enter. Few words were exchanged between the group; they weren't strangers but they weren't quite family, not yet. Phillip took one side of Anne's bed as W.D. took the other and Lottie sat behind Phillip.

"Tell me about her," Lottie broke the silence several minutes later and Phillip and W.D. grinned-this they could do with ease.

^v^v^

Four days. She was kept in a state of unconsciousness for four days while the doctors continuously monitored her progress and made minute adjustments to the frame she lay upon. The contraption looked medieval but Avery assured them this was the best care Anne could receive-despite the torturous look, it was helping her heal.

On the morning of the fifth day, they stopped administering ether, letting her wake as naturally as possible. Lottie arrived for a few hours every day, as did P.T. and Charity, and Lettie stopped by a few times with flowers (to keep the room "fresh" she stated and though Anne couldn't see them, Phillip could sense she knew). The doctors warned it would take a while for her to wake because she had been under for so long and Phillip thought they were being overly cautious-it was when they were entering the sixth day of her slowly waking and moments of consciousness followed by her falling back to sleep did he realize it could be days before she was awake enough to be alert.

"Mr.'s Wheeler and Carlyle," Avery announced excitedly, "I have wonderful news-the latest x-rays show the treatment worked-the swelling has significantly reduced and there appears to be no lasting damage to the spinal column." Phillip looked at a stunned W.D., shouting with joy before pulling his future brother-in-law in for a hug.

"So she'll be able to walk?" W.D. asked.

"I can't say with 100% certainty," Avery clarified, "but there doesn't appear to be any reason she can't."

"That's wonderful news," Phillip beamed, shaking the man's hand. "Thank you very much." Now they had to wait for Anne to wake up to tell her the news. The doctors unhooked her from the traction contraption a day later, declaring her recovered enough to lay in a regular bed, and that night she was back in the original ward under the watchful eye of Dr. Avery, W.D., Phillip, and Lottie.

Three days after she moved wards, Anne woke early in the morning and looked around groggily. W.D. was passed out in the bed next to her, Phillip was slumped over the side of her bed, her left hand clasped in his, and a woman (she would swear it was Phillip's cousin Lottie but what would she be doing here?) was in the bed Phillip usually occupied. Without thinking, she lifted her right hand and ran her fingers through Phillip's hair, waking him gently. He stirred under her touch without thinking and smiled.

"Hi," she whispered once he opened his eyes and looked at her.

"You're awake," he hummed with happiness and she nodded but the words registered in his mind. He sat up straighter and caught her hand in his-it froze and he felt the strength of it and grinned madly. "You're awake!" he almost yelled, leaning forward to kiss her quickly before hitting W.D. awake and shaking Lottie, repeating the phrase over and over again. W.D. sat up, confused for a moment until he saw his sister smiling at him and he fell out of bed in his excitement to be next to her.

"How are you feeling?" W.D. asked, gently placing a hand on her arm and Anne twitched at the sensation.

"I can feel that," she grinned in amazement and W.D. laughed and wept with joy, placing a kiss on her cheek. Phillip returned to stand to her left and carefully, she lifted her hand and reached for his; taking his hand in hers -each grinning like mad as her fingers wrapped around his. He bent over and placed a kiss on her forehead before touching his forehead to hers in a moment of intimacy that caused W.D. to look away.

"It's been over a week," he breathed, "but it worked, baby. The treatment worked." Anne wrapped her free arm around his neck and pulled him down for a scorching kiss.

"I knew you were here," she whispered. "I could hear you; both of you." She looked up to her brother and squeezed his hand.

"We didn't leave your side," W.D. said, kneeling on the floor next to her bed.

"I can attest to that," a female voice interrupted. Phillip turned and stood, ushering her in to the small reunion and Anne looked at her quizzically, realizing she did recognize her.

"L...Lottie?" she asked, and the woman seemed surprised to be recognized but Phillip nodded with a grin.

"She's been spending several hours with you if W.D. or I needed to go anywhere," he said. "It's a long story and I'll tell you all of it later," he promised.

"I can't wait," she grinned at him before turning to his cousin and offering her hand, surprised the woman took it without hesitation. "Thank you," Anne said, looking the woman in the eye, "for everything."

"I'm glad you're awake," Lottie beamed, giving her hand the tiniest squeeze. "These two have been worried sick about you." Anne opened her mouth to respond but the sound of a clearing throat turned all their heads.

"I hate to interrupt this reunion," Dr. Avery apologized, "but seeing as the patient is awake, we need to perform a few tests. It won't take long, but why don't you three go get breakfast and by the time you return we'll have Ms. Wheeler back?"

^v^v^

Two weeks after waking, Anne sat in a wheelchair as Phillip pushed her through the doors of Bellevue. The weak sunlight that trickled through the windows of her ward was nothing compared to feeling the sun on her face and the breeze blowing through her hair for the first time in over three weeks. W.D. walked next to her, beaming down at his sister as he held the door for Phillip, sending the man a knowing grin. Before Anne could ask about it, she turned to see P.T., Charity, the girls, and Lottie and her husband standing with balloons, flowers, and cheering for her as Phillip wheeled her out.

"What are you all doing here?" Anne asked in amazement as Helen and Caroline ran up to give her hugs.

"Phillip told us you were getting out today," Charity said, walking over and giving the younger girl a gentle hug, as though to show her children it could be done.

"And we couldn't miss seeing you walk out of this place," P.T. grinned. The darker thought of her not walking out passed through their minds for a moment but that was only a nightmare-a dark dream during the night. And this, as Phillip watched over Anne while she stood to thunderous applause, was a brand new day.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 2: I hope you all enjoyed that! I tried to keep things as historically true to time as possible but, again, I'm not an expert so if I made a mistake, let it ride.
> 
> As always, if you feel the need to flame, please flame responsibly :)


	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I received a prompt from USP asking for “Phillip and Anne make a training on trapeze”[sic]. Considering that is the entire prompt, I’m adding it as a pink, cotton-candy, fluffy follow up to the angst from the hospital. I figured you all deserve this if you waited through the hospital angst I threw at you.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. I also know nothing about trapeze or gymnastics so everything I’m about to write I looked up on Google and YouTube. You have been warned.

* * *

 

She loved him so much, she was going to marry him and she could hardly wait for the day, but his incessant need to question doctor’s orders drove her up the wall.

 

“Avery said you need to--” Phillip started, following her into the practice ring where she stretched. It felt good to move again after being bedridden for weeks on end and then under limited movement restrictions. Yesterday she was given the all clear by the orthopedic doctor and Avery to return to work--with proper safety of course. She would stay low to the ground until P.T. and Phillip devised a way to ensure safety while in the air.

 

“Avery said I was free to return to work,” she pointed out, moving to stretch in new way and enjoying the sensation of the tightness in her back easing and grinning at the momentarily distracted Phillip. “You know,” she began innocently, standing up and walking over to him, placing her arms around his neck and pulling him close. His hands instantly went on her waist, “you could always join me.”

 

“Join you?” he asked dumbly, his eye still boring into her as he half listened, and she grinned.

 

“If you’re concerned I’ll hurt myself, why don’t you help me train?” He typically sat in on practices if he had time, watching and commenting on particular stunts, but he always gave her space to perform. After the accident, however, he seemed worried if both her feet left the ground at the same time and if he was going to fuss over her, why not let him see how safe she really was in the air? Even if she would only be a few feet off the ground.

 

Her words cut through his revery and he shook himself free from her spell. He processed her words and she could see the wheels in his head turning.

 

“I’d love to join you,” he grinned. Anne smiled and trailed her arms down his to take his hands, leading him into the ring. 

 

“First,” she loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. “You need to be able to move,” she told him, taking his arms and moving them in wide circles to loosen the fabric of his tucked-in shirt against his undershirt and pants. Then, she pulled away to let down a few ropes and a bar appeared in front of him. 

 

“This feels familiar,” he grinned, hanging onto one of the ropes while she walked back. She took the other and with an expert tug, she swung upside down and elevated herself several feet off the ground. She stopped when she was level with Phillip and she offered her hands to him.

 

“I’m completely safe,” she promised as he tentatively swung her back and forth gently. He let go and put his hands on the bar, bringing him close enough she could smell his cologne--spicy and clean, it was a heady combination and she breathed deep. 

 

“I don’t want you to get hurt again,” Phillip whispered, his voice breaking at the idea of her somehow being hurt again. Anne took his head in her hands and gently kissed him, breaking him from the thought.

 

“I don’t know why that happened,” she emphatically told him, “but do I know you and P.T. will create a way to keep us safe.”   
  
“I don’t want you to stop what you love,” he slowly replied, unable to look her in the eye while he confessed, “but I want you safe...I  _ need _ you safe.” Anne twisted on the bar and fluidly pulled herself through and down to stand in front of him.

 

“It’s not up to you to make sure I’m safe,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him close to place a gentle kiss on his lips. “Right now, you’re here to help me train.” Phillip smiled and kissed her back, taking a step back from the trapeze bar so she should mount it before moving back within arms reach. He followed her movements, reassuring himself she wasn’t going to fall but then he began studying the way she moved--typically unable to see the sinewy and exacting motions--and he couldn’t look away.

 

Anne enjoyed the feel of being in the air again; even if she was less than five feet off the ground. What she found she enjoyed even more was Phillip watching her every move and moving with her, following her as she lifted herself up and over the bar, tucking under, and twisting around in familiar ways. Even with the doctor’s permission, she was still unsure of how she would react to being on the trapeze again but it was as if she never left--muscle memory kicked in and she was back. It was also comforting to have Phillip there, his hands ghosting over her body and leaving trails of gooseflesh in his wake.

 

It became a dance, she moved through her routine and he followed with careful hands and watchful eyes. She went from the trapeze to the hoop to aerial fabrics and back--each time she would stop and stretch, eliciting painful happiness from Phillip as he watched her move and kept up his protective guidance. She made the mistake of looking up at him once while working in the aerial ring and his hard gaze, set jaw, dilated pupils, and heavy breathing told her it wasn’t in her imagination. She sent him a knowing smirk and it both broke the spell and made it worse--he moved closer and soon his body followed hers.

 

^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^

 

W.D. rotated his shoulder, massaging his arm where it still stung from his fall. He had been cleared a week ago to return to work but after a practice session, his ribs were tender and his shoulder stung from the accident. He knew Anne would be cleared soon and he looked forward to performing with his sister again. They could almost read each other’s minds and despite the level of professionalism the other artists brought to the circus, they weren't Anne.

 

He headed back to the practice ring with the hoops and ropes they used, intending to restring them before tomorrow but something, or someone, caught his eye. Anne! She was on a trapeze lower to the ground than normal but she was back! W.D. grinned at the surprise and took two steps before stopping cold--she wasn’t alone, Phillip was...what were they doing?

 

He felt a blush creeping up his neck as he fought to maintain a rational line of thinking: they were at work, they wouldn’t be doing anything improprietous...would they? He doubted their actions due to Phillip’s strict upbringing and Anne’s own sense of decency, but the sight before his eyes told a vastly different story. They were in a more  _ intimate _ position than proper and their movements...he wasn’t as virtuous as his sister and he was uncomfortable at the scene he stumbled upon. 

 

It all took place in the space of a breath but it felt longer, and in his haste to leave them alone he knocked over the line of vertical-stacked hoops used during floor routines. Before he could grab the first one, they cascaded against each other and the resulting thunderous crash echoed around the him, the tent, and specifically the couple he tried so hard not to interrupt. W.D. screwed his eyes shut, praying the past minute didn’t actually happen but upon opening them he saw Anne and Phillip running towards him, concern and worry clear on their faces.

 

“W.D.!” Anne called, stepping over the knocked over props as fast as she could, “are you okay?”

 

“What happened?” Phillip asked as he began picking up what he could. “Are you hurt?” What could he do? What could he say? He went with a mute nod and began helping Phillip pick up the pieces, putting Anne’s mind at ease when she reached him.

 

“I’m--I’m okay,” he finally sputtered once he realized he hadn’t spoken in over a minute and they were still waiting for an answer and he hadn’t responded. “I didn’t know you were back today,” he softly accused Anne and the words stopped her in her tracks.

 

“I--I didn’t know if I would be able to train,” she admitted, looking down at the floor as though the mess still lingered around them. “I asked Phillip to help me train in case--”

 

“In case she couldn’t go back right away,” Phillip supplied. “She was given the all clear but she didn’t want to disappoint you by being out of practice.”

 

“So Phillip was helping me train,” Anne finished, looking at her brother as though his forgiveness would heal the pain hiding the secret caused. His reaction was not what she expected.

 

“Is that what you’re calling it?” he mumbled under his breath. Anne looked to Phillip in confusion, who mirrored the expression back to W.D.

 

“What?” Phillip could only ask and W.D. threw up his hands in exasperation. 

 

“I saw you two,” he spelled out, “in the practice ring.” When they continued to stare at him blankly his blush returned with full force along with a critical anger he didn’t realize he held. “You two were in a...compromising position,” he clarified to the best of his ability and their continuing blank and confused stares provoked him.

 

“What do you think you saw?” Anne finally questioned and when W.D. looked to the floor before sending pointed glances between them it was as if a bolt of lightning caused them to jump a foot apart.

 

“That’s not what we were doing,” Phillip almost yelled.

 

“Nothing happened,” Anne exclaimed at the same time. “I was training.”

 

“I was worried she might hurt herself again and wanted to be close by,” Phillip quickly emphatically. “That’s it.” 

 

Silence hung awkwardly around the trio, stretching to breaking but no one wanted to be the one to shatter it. W.D. glanced between Anne and Phillip, who tried to stand as far apart as they could without more awkwardness ensuing. The silence seemed to take on a persona of its own, overpowering them and forcing them to look around, hoping someone else would speak first. It was only a matter of minutes but it seemed to stretch into hours before P.T. barrelled in, calling for W.D. and shattering the oppressive silence. Everyone was thrilled to focus on the new intrusion--especially if that instruction took them away from this situation.

 

“Phillip, what are you doing here?” P.T. asked, confused to see his partner on his day off, as he came over to W.D., and then promptly ignored Phillip when he saw Anne next to him. “Anne!” he smiled, pulling her in for a hug. “I didn’t know you were here!” Before anyone could explain their presence, P.T. turned to W.D. “I think I figured out a way to keep you, and you,” he turned back to Anne, “in the air.” They leapt at the diversion.

 

“What did you come up with?” Phillip asked, cautiously wrapping his arm around Anne’s waist as P.T. explained his idea of a net below the trapeze performers but high enough the ground routine wouldn’t be caught in it. 

 

“Is it feasible?” Anne asked and P.T. shrugged with his famous grin.

 

“Won’t know until we find out,” he replied in typical Barnum fashion. 

 

For the next week, P.T. and Phillip worked on the stretched net and premiered it the night Anne returned. She never needed it, but was grateful for its presence. She was also grateful of how Phillip helped her train.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N 2: The safety net was invented in the late 1800s and was primarily used by firefighters. So...again, I’m stretching history. Go with it.
> 
> I have 5 more chapters planned so if you guys have any ideas, let me know! This was a prompt and I hope you all enjoyed it!
> 
> As always, if you need to flame, please flame responsibly :)

**Author's Note:**

> A/N 2: I hope you enjoyed that. I wasn’t planning on writing anything that corresponded with the movie but that jumpcut from the burning building to her sitting with him seemed...fast. So here’s some interlude to bridge that.
> 
> As always, if you feel the need to flame, please flame responsibly :)


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